


Out of the water, and into the fryingpan

by AngelOfAsgard



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BAMF John, Food, Humor, Imprisonment, Learning how to walk, M/M, Merlock, Merman John, Suicidal Thoughts, transformations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfAsgard/pseuds/AngelOfAsgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off an rp with the lovely BananaXHannahX</p><p>John was a gifted doctor among his kind. Known for curing small ill's and his will to face dangerous waters to rescue others in need.<br/>Yet during his job, aiding a mortally wounded Mer, he got caught by humans.<br/>Now he was drifting in still, mucky dribble that was supposed to represent seawater. Waiting until the new head of research arrived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not brit picked.  
> Or betad, that being said i am looking for a brit picking beta who would love to help me out.  
> Feel free to leave a comment or poke me if you are interested!

Merpeople mostly lived solitary lives, hunting and gathering the bare essentials they needed in order to survive. Sometimes they formed smaller colonies, especially those with a specific skill set such as John had a steady home there. Among their kind he was a doctor, treating the wounded and sick who came to him for help. A well loved and respected merman in the region he lived in. More so because he was willing to travel through dangerous currents, reaching those who's injuries, such as shark bites, where more drastic than a scale rash. Those years of traveling for study and work, made him a one of the strongest and swiftest swimmer in the area, another factor that made him a reliable rescuer in times of need. He had gained a reputation for working hard, dedication to his patients and having fearless attitude.

  
Unfortunately his high risk job, and natural protective instincts had been his downfall.

  
A great storm above, a ruthless tide below, and still John tried to drag a mortally wounded merman with him. Logically he knew the odds of survival where not in the others favour. However he'd never abandoned a patient and he wasn’t starting now. Struggling to find his way, the doctor, had not seen the approaching fishing net. A large boat was still out in this weather, sailed by foolish humans that sought to tame nature . He got dragged up quickly , losing his dying patient to the raging current. Stuck in the net he was unable to reach for his medkit that contained a sharp knife and other tools of his trade. So cutting himself free wasn't an option. The crew rapidly discovered their unusual catch and dragged him on board net and all where John continued to his struggle to get out of his binds and back into the sea. Getting caught by humans was the last thing he wanted, managing to free a fin and geab the railing he tried pulling himself up. Yet a scared sailor shot him down before he even managed to get high enough to view the sea below. Falling unconscious from pain and blood loss his last thought was: please god let me live.

  
So here he was, his wish granted. For weeks now he had been wasting away. Captive in the relatively small enclosure, losing his freedom, privacy and basic rights. Yes, his wound had healed, yet an ugly gnarled scar remained and his muscles still pained him from time to time. Scientists came and went, taking blood, pulling out scales or taking tissue samples. They acted on the believe he wasn’t an intelligent being, that he held no understanding of language just because he didn’t speak to them.

  
John had lost his will to live, his once vibrant metallic blues had become dull, after he stopped grooming his tail. He’d lost weight and upper muscle strength as well, even if he still remained stronger than most humans. After hearing them talk, John knew he wasn't allowed to die. Not until they had completed their “ _research_ ”. An outside specialist had been called in to asses what was wrong with him, to keep him alive whatever it took until he no longer had any scientific use. John drifted in the muck humans called _“salt”_ water, face void of expression as he could do naught but wait.

* * *

 

Sherlock was a respected detective, chemist, laborant and scientist. Everywhere in the world, people would ask for the consultant’s assistance, but he mostly declined their offers. Over half of them where a waste of his intellect and skill, a graduate who delivered half assed work could do them blindfolded. He picked where he worked, choosing only the truly interesting or bizarre problems to solve. And he was good in it, no scrap that, he was the best. That is why they called him again and again. However the last few weeks had been unfortunately slow, not one remotely interesting assignment dropped in his mailbox.

  
Until his current job came along.

A chance to study a merman.  
Which at first seemed as completely ridiculous as it sounded. Yet the vague images, DNA results and various messy files proved that however improbable it was the truth.

  
A real live merman got caught in a fishing net and was kept alive for various tests. Sherlock decided to go, it was after all a unique chance to see such a being. So after a long exhausting travel, he ended up in a remote laboratory nearby the north sea. The striking young consultant stepped into the main laboratory and looked around with an intimidating glare, a young mousy woman quickly filled him in on what they had done so far.

  
Idiots the whole lot of them.

  
In vivid detail, Sherlock, pointed out every flaw in their approach of the _“test subject_ ”. Who was apparently treated as more of a monster than a scientific wonder of nature. No wonder their boss needed him so desperately. He then proceeded to ban them from any further contact with the ‘ _mermaid_ ’ , I mean come on it obviously was a Merman if you wanted to give the being a more precise name . Be it direct contact, from behind the glass or simple observations from the camera's. Sherlock claimed he did not desire anymore skewed results caused by a bunch of stumbling baboons.

The owner, an Irish man ‘ _gay_ ’ of small stature with soulless beady eyes, agreed to the terms but he told the scientist to go see the merman immediately since “ _it_ ” had not given any responses to “ _stimuli_ ” in the past few days. Looking at the records Sherlock noticed the ghastly way the Merman was treated, stimuli had just been a politer way for pain. Walking towards the basin he rolled up his white sleeves and sat down on the top of it. He pushed his trousers up and sat with his legs in the water, just waiting and looking.  
Sherlock brought a small leather bound notebook and an ink pen with him. Through the blurry waters he could vaguely discern the contours of the merman , who was eerily still between the seaweeds. A rather moronic lab assistant called Anderson had thought he was out of his mind when he put his feet into the basin, going so far to call Sherlock a freak who deserved to witness the creatures ferocity. Mermen could be...strong. and sometimes dangerous, but Sherlock didn't care about that. He knew better than to blindly trust the words of others, especially those of people like this Anderson. With a cold gaze and the flick of a hand he sent the last people out, promising to deduct their entire personal history for others to hear.  
Finally alone he relaxed a bit more, humming a tune when he saw the merman had moved . Those eyes that stared at him where dark, and held intelligence. Perhaps more than the people he sent away in justified anger. Going for an unconventional approach he looked at the Merman and simply said. "Hello."

  
John felt the water stir above him, rippling with unfamiliar disturbance. Not granting the whoever was present the pleasure of a reaction, he stayed adrift. Nothing happened, not even after several minutes which was rather peculiar. The human ‘researcher’ was still present though, bare feet dangling in the water. However there was no ill intent, no prodding, pricking or tapping on the walls of his prison. Slowly but surely curiosity won and John pointed his gaze upwards locking eyes with the other man who greeted him.

  
The doctor surprised by this odd reaction, snorted. " Hello?" Well it was the first time he was talked to, instead of talked at like an unintelligent beast. " Forgive my lack of enthusiasm but it did take you humans several weeks of confinement and torture before figuring out elementary politeness might work." He bit in the scientists direction, furious about the treatment he was given. They hadn’t just dealt physical and emotional pain. Food was sparse and unsuitable, water wasn't sufficiently clean for either breathing or drinking and he was literally living in his own waste. All in all he had the right to be pissed off and more.

  
Sherlock arched an eyebrow at the answer he got. He looked at the man floating before him, Older, muscular and certainly a lot stronger than him. "That is because the men that work here are mindless monkeys, trained to do everything the one paying them says. " He shrugged. "I'm not like them. The name is Sherlock Holmes."

  
Carefully the doctor weighed this Sherlock, his stance was relaxed and his words where undeniably true. If he was indeed different from the others remained to be seen, so far John’s encounters with humans had ended quite badly. Yet he found no harm in returning the offering of names. Nodding in agreement he said. " John Watson. I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you. But my circumstances are a bit dire at the moment." He felt oddly talkative around this stranger, especially considering he had not used his vocal cords for such a long time.

  
Sherlock just ignored the bitter words of the merman and carried on with the formalities. "So, John, I was brought here to keep you alive and to become head of your test sequence. So I'll be the one handling you from now on. " He said in a neutral voice.. "They also asked me to get you back to your best strengths. Which is incredibly stupid of them, seeing that you are already stronger than any of them. It would be child's play for you to drown a few if you felt like it.”

  
"I do not wish to live." John stated quietly, voice betraying the despair and sadness he was truly feeling. If living meant being a being toy, a guinea pig for others to play with for the sake of science. Then he'd rather find a way to end it on his own terms. Voice incredibly hoarse from his self-inflicted silence, John, nearly growled his reply making it sound like a warning “And yes I could, bones snap easily if you know where to apply pressure. However I’m not in the habit of causing mindless harm unlike others."

  
Sherlock took note of the suicidal thoughts the merman held, scribbling it down in his notebook. However he did not talk about them. Giving the swimmer a small fake smile he said. "I can see that. Well, for now I think it's best to give you a fresh fish diet instead of those dirty meals they give you here. And I'll be coming here each day to talk and do minor tests. "

  
Disappointed John refused to answer, preferring to sink back into the salt dribble these people called water. More tests... it would not end then, this one was the same kind of monster after all. A polite one, smarter than the rest, deceptively kinder as well. But the merman knew better than to hope. Giving the other a defiant glare he turned around and curled his long tail back around himself, creating what little privacy he had.

  
Sherlock sighed softly to himself, perhaps he should have been less clinical in his approach. Yet even though he had not given the merman the answer he desired, this John did not use any sort of violence. He could have easily pulled Sherlock underwater and drowned him, broken his neck or used those strong arms for strangulation. But no, against all odds the merman was very peaceful. "What is your favourite fish?" Sherlock asked slowly.

  
Why could this strange character not leave him alone, or just stare at him in disgust like the others. Why was he so annoyingly persistent and hard to ignore, it irked John as much as it amused him. Seeing no harm he carefully replied. " Shellfish." He wasn't planning on eating any, but at least he could create tools out of their hard covers. If anything it could be his means _“out”_ of this miserable place.

  
Sherlock grinned a little, shellfish...right... A man that was on a terrible diet, would not ask for small snacks such as shellfish. Unless wanting to do something else with them. The merman was smart, far more clever than the scientist had expected. Sherlock saw no harm in giving the merman his meal, even with tools he couldn't get far. The tank of water was built in the floor of a large open room, with only one door leading into the next room . "Alright. I'll make sure you get shellfish then."

  
"Thank you, for showing a bit of kindness." John added, seeing as it could as well be the last time he saw Sherlock. He'd probably be replaced soon anyway, which was for the best. He was not keen on dying while this man watched him, lord knows he seemed clever enough to stop John in time. “ Now piss off.”

  
Sherlock made a soft hmmm noise in agreement and nodded, before turning to leave. Chosing to ignore the merman's last comment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off an rp with thevlovely BananaXhannahX
> 
> Not brit picked.
> 
> Or betad, that bring said i am looking for a brit picking beta who would love to help me out.  
> Feel free to leave a comment or poke me if you are interested!

Sherlock stormed back and forth in the lab, his coat billowing up like a white storm cloud. He was mentally going through different kinds of seafood and their nutritional value versus what he could get on such a short notice. When there was a soft knock on the door, which he proceeded to ignore to contemplate the difference between various molluscs.

  
There was another knock on the door followed by a timid question. “ Hello? Mr Holmes?”

  
Rolling his eyes at the inevitability of contact he shouted in the direction of the door.” SHERLOCK! Mr Holmes is my annoying elder brother.” All he wanted was to be left alone, was that so hard to understand for these people.

  
The door opened and a young woman wearing an ugly obviously to large polka dot sweater under her lab coat entered.” Sorry Mr H... I i mean Sherlock.”

  
The consultant let his cold observant gaze fall over her. Two cats a red one and a long haired tabby, afraid of crowds , braver than she looks, single. Oh, he could possibly use that. Suddenly his eyes grew less cold, and a soft albeit fake smile appeared on his face. “Yes?” He hated these fake pleasantries, however it often made others more compliant.

  
She shuffled in on het comfortable brown loafers. “ Molly. I work in one of the labs at the end of the hallway remember?”

  
No he didn't at all, what use would such info be anyway. The change he'd pay a visit to exchange mind numbing stories about the weather was frankly less than zero. Sherlock opened his mouth to form a reply, but Molly was faster.

  
“ It's ok, you don't have to pretend.” She said knowingly.

  
“ Good.” Sherlock said dropping the ‘nice guy' act immediately. “ What do you want?” People rarely sought him out voluntary, so she was either sent or she needed help. Both options equally got on his nerve.

  
Molly looked at him shyly, gathering courage to ask her question. “ I am your assistant should you need help, since i can't currently do my own work. I have heard so much about you and admired your work for years... Would you like coffee sometimes.?”

  
Contemplating her words, Sherlock figured he might as well make use of her services. “ Black two sugars, there’s a machine down the hall.”

She was starring at him in surprise, but soon left him alone to do his work. Sherlock sat down at his desk, grabbing the file containing John's feeding schedule. No wonder the Merman stopped eating, Anderson had figured a diet of adjusted fish food would do. Of course it contained all the necessary ingredients to keep a normal captive aquatic animal alive and moderately content. Yet they where dealing with a living, breathing sentient creature...no, man here. Sherlock crumpled the paper in anger throwing it towards the general direction of the bin.

  
At the same time Molly arrived carrying a cup of hot coffee. “ Here you go Sherlock, anything else?”

  
“No.” Reaching for the caffeinated drink with his left hand, waving her off at the same time. Sherlock continued to pen down a new list containing several seaweeds known to be edible , fish and shellfish. He settled on a mixture of clams and fresh oysters first, perhaps some prawns as well. Did John normally eat his food live? He took a sip off his hot drink figuring he’d learn that soon enough, when he remembered Molly. “Molly WAIT!” He shouted in a commanding tone running towards the door in the hope she hadn't gone to far. When he opened it he was starring at a rather hopeful face.

  
“Yes?” She asked with a soft smile, worrying the hem of her sweater.

  
Sherlock straightened himself and handed her the list. “ I need everything on it as soon as possible, we are changing his diet.”

  
Molly looked back at him a tad confused. “ Who’s?”

  
Frustrated Sherlock loudly said. “ John's! Anderson had him on an terrible diet. I need you to go down to the harbour and find a decent fisherman, I demand to get only the best fresh fish they have. No frozen junk full of antibiotics.”

  
His assistant was starring at him with a slightly amused look on her face. “ You named it?”

  
“I” Sherlock said utterly stunned for the moment. With one simple word ‘ _it_ ’, Molly, had completely dehumanized the Merman. This seemingly sweet, animal loving young woman had turned a man into an thing without giving it a second thought. “Yes, I figured he needed a name.” To his own surprise, Sherlock, felt offended by her words. But he didn't let the emotion evolve further, after all it would only distract him from his work.

  
Molly thinking they had a common link babbled on. “ Oh I had a goldfish named Wanda once. She didn't live long though, I think my mum flushed her through the toilet and...”

  
Sherlock told himself it was the mindless chatter he couldn’t stand. “Molly! Get out and get the fish. I want it tomorrow morning, I don't want him another day on this abysmal fodder.”

  
“Y...Yes.” She stuttered and left with haste, not even closing the door behind her.

  
The consultant quickly closed the door, glad to be finally rid of her. Did he misjudge her earlier? Could it be that his deductions where wrong about the kind of person she was, or had she simple never met the man? Because her words where cruel and unnecessary. ‘ _It'_ still ghosted in his mind, lingering like a bad infection. Reminding him of how others used to treat him before he had a firm grasp over his emotions and transport.

  
Shaking his head to get rid of the chaotic thoughts, Sherlock, went back to work. There was a long sleepless night ahead of him, full of sorting and possibly burning inadequate research.

  
Come morning there was a soft tap on the door as it opened simultaneously. “ You must have gotten up early.”

  
“Early? Yes.” Mumbled Sherlock behind several stacks of paperwork.

  
Molly placed a plastic bag on the working tablet.” I could not get shellfish for today, but I got a piece of cod. But I placed a large order for tomorrow to be delivered and a mix of seafood the upcoming days.”

  
The consultant had no clue if John was willing to eat cod, not when the Merman had been promised shellfish. “It’ll do for now.” Before she left he had to know though. “ Have you ever seen John?”

  
Molly blinked her eyes confused. “ No not yet, just heard descriptions from Sally. Why?”

  
Sherlock sighed deeply content that his deductions had been flawless after all. “ Never mind. I will be locking the door behind you, but I expect you to test these.” He planted two tubes in her hands. “ For vitamin deficiency, sugar levels and do a count of the red blood cells. I want them at my desk this evening when I return.

  
She nodded and slid the samples in a protective cover. “ Where will you be going?”

  
“To see John and get new blood samples.” Sherlock stated opening a closet door to find his wetsuit. “Well are you just going to stand there while I change? “ He asked fingers on the first button of his purple shirt.

  
Turning red Molly started to leave. “Sorry, I’ll get it done.”

  
After she left he got undressed and into his brand new wetsuit. Sherlock brought two of them before he camevto this facility, a full bodysuit and trousers. The scientist figured that if there was a change to get wet, he might as well bring appropriate attire. Pulling on his crisp white lab coat over the wetsuit, he locked the door of the laboratory and entered the observation room. From there he could see the large hall where John's relatively small basin was. It didn't look like anything special, just a large remodelled old warehouse with a concrete floor. The only thing that made it remotely appealing was a large dug out basin in the middle where John was kept. Rolling up his sleeves, Sherlock , sat down again on the edge waiting for the Merman to come up in his own time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off an rp with the lovely XbananaXhanah
> 
> Still looking for a beta/britpicker please poke me if interested

What John assumed to be nights where the worst, he dreaded them more than the humiliation and pain of the day. Although admittedly the last twelve hours had been a marginal improvement, at least someone dared to treat him like a person. Or maybe it would turn out worse, there was no guarantee that this Sherlock Holmes character would continue acting as if John was more than a fish. The stranger had made a point in telling him that the research and testing would not stop. What after all was more horrible than knowingly submitting an intelligent being to these travesties.  
No, whatever the next day brought it could very well be more catastrophic.

But for now the Merman was left alone in complete darkness. Gone was the starry sky and moonlight reflections he so loved. The water was eerily still, no gentle tide to lull you to sleep. With the exception of some overgrown waterweeds it was void of life, no guppy, crab or jellyfish to keep him company. He had trouble finding sleep in such a silence, and what sleep he did have was frequented with recurring nightmares. Visions of the wounded Mer he could have saved, sinking into the dark depths. The cloying feel of panic as he was dragged on board in a net that chafed his scales. And a blur of burning pain and red as he watched his own blood seep from an open wound.  
As a doctor he knew what his symptoms where, the lack of will to live and the psychosomatic pains in his fin.  
John's previous night was another one deprived of sleep, and if he could he'd try to find some rest now. Yet the overly bright artificial lights where keeping him from his slumber, while annoyingly declaring it was suppose to be day. Or at least that's what he figured. From within the water he heard a loud scraping echo, which he knew to be a door. 

John had certainly not expected his strange visitor to return so soon with, of his sense of smell was correct, a piece of Pollock. Not what he had desired, yet it was a surprise non the less. The consultant came into view and John noticed that his clothing had become stranger. Gone was the flimsy fabric he usually saw others wear, this type of garment appeared to be protective and functional. His matte blue tail slowly un covered him, and the merman watched as Sherlock rolled up his sleeves and sat down dangling his legs in the water.

The one studied the other, in what seemed to be the most uncomfortable in history. Sherlock refusing to blink, while John having a nictitating membrane didn't need to.

Surprisingly even to himself, Sherlock was the first one to crack.” You have a psychosomatic limp.”

John having no idea how to respond to raised his eyebrow. “ Wait, what?”

Sherlock hadn't meant to blurt it out, he was supposed to have a friendly smile and a calm, collective attitude. He'd made up a whole act, one others always reacted to in a positive manner. Yet his brain had suddenly decided to take a different turn. Replacing the smile for a frown he said. “ Your tail says more to the left, suggesting pain in it's flank. A twitch can occasionally be seen as well if one knows where to look for. Yet with the exception of your shoulder and some...minor lacerations, you have no injury. Ergo it's psychosomatic. “ The consultant waited for the usual reaction of insulted gasps, swearing and the occasional drink that was thrown in his face. Yet none of this happened, instead the merman looked at him with a bit of wonder in those dark eyes.

“Amazing. “ Exhaled John, every speck of info was correct. How was it possible for one to see so much in a single instant?

The consultant had to blink in surprise. “ That's not what people normally say.”

The doctor quirked an eyebrow as he swam closer without knowing it. “ What do they say then ?” His mind longed to know more about this remarkably curious individual.

Grinning Sherlock said. “ Piss off.” Repeating the words they last parted with, the scientist, saw a wide, amused grin spread out on the merman's face. 

“ Tell me more, i dare you! “ Encouraged John wondering what else his body language gave away.

Sherlock not one to ho back from such a dare continued his deductions. "Your parents died a long time ago and that left you with just your troubled sibling, you love him or her but there is a lot of strain in your relationship. It has been better lately, probably moved away to live with a partner. You were left behind and focussed on your job, which you absolutely mastered and feel proud off. But i can’t define what it is completly. You are obviously attracted to dangerous situations, yet you are an open and caring individual. If you where a human I’d peg you for an army doctor. You had a partner but she ended up betraying you and you left her about a year ago."

John's expression lightened up as he mumbled “Brilliant.” It was all true, his troubled sister had swam off with another mermaid. Only a few times a year did he receive word of them. Mary... Mary had been his assistant, but when he was off visiting other colonies, or when he was called in for an emergency. She had been “assisting” a lone merman that lived nearby. And yes, he was great at what he did, a very skilful doctor indeed. “You are absolutely amazing, how did you know all off that?”

The scientist blushed as he started his explanation. "I observe." He mumbled and then looked down at John's tail. "Isn't it incredibly hard to have one limb instead of two?" He asked in open curiosity. The merman’s tail had to have been a thing of bea...no it still was beautiful. Just covered in filth and algae that clung to it's scales.

John laughed out loud. “Isn’t it terribly clumsy to balance on those two.” He said pointing at Sherlock’s long legs. “ I think this is a perfect example of how we evolved differently, I can't imagine walking on two legs.” John felt it then as he laughed for the first time in a long while, happiness at seeing a friendly face. Weeks alone must have left him starved for normal contact, if a human scientist made him feel such emotion. Dear sealord, he wasn't developing little mermaid syndrome now was he?

Sherlock reluctantly ulled out a set of assorted test tubes, carefully placing them besides him. “I know you don't like the testing because of how they treated you. And I'm sorry for that, but I also have tests I need to run. I guarantee that it will be less uncomfortable and painful, and I prefer your cooperation... Please.” He added feeling oddly respectful towards the other, finding not just an intelligent person but one that praised him instead of shunning was rare. Extremely so. And it should have been sad that it took another species to treat him like a human being. But strangely it felt right.

John nodded in understanding but voiced his worries. " I understand that you where ordered as well. But tell me this, what happens if I refuse? By now there must be enough I’ll gotten blood, scales and flesh samples to last months. I hardly see the need for more, it is not as if I am a patient who's bloodwork needs to be checked on regular basis. If anything I’m a captive whose basic rights have been refused and ignored time and time again. So yes, I’m not in a state of agreement about donating anything.”

Sherlock spoke softly. "Well, taking blood is to see how the nutrition and oxygen in your blood is doing. Scale samples are to learn more about your tail. And flesh samples is a very painful way of finding out your DNA. I just don't get why they use flesh. Did you ever bite one of them?” He mumbled and then set the tests out next to him. "If you'd be so kind to cooperate, I'll leave you alone after this."

The prospect of being left alone was big enough to make him doubt , even though a large part of him wanted Sherlock to stay . John was afraid of what might happened if he did, because honestly if the other had been a Mer , John’s tone would have turned flirtatious. “All right, but I will pull the scales myself. Your co-workers only picked those on the most painful places. And yes i bit, might as well act like the animal they think I am if i'm to defend myself.'

Sherlock frowned and shook his head in abject horror. "I don't need a whole scale, let alone several. I'll just trim off a bit of the edge and that is all, but first I'll take some blood. Can you come closer?"

John sighed in relief hearing that. Pulling out a scale was incredibly painful , even in his duties as a doctor he tried to avoid it. “ Very well “ Approaching the edge of the basin he rested his forearms on the same surface Sherlock sat on.

The consultant pulled out a thin needle and looked for a place on John's arm that wouldn't hurt. He slowly pushed the needle in and filled up two small tubes while the merman followed his every step. "All done."

Staying at the basins edge, John , followed the others movements, taking note of the different methods they used to draw blood. This time he hardly felt a pin prick. “ Why did you do it, take this job offer. You don't seem to keen on what they are doing here after all."

Sherlock shrugged, not looking up. "That is exactly why I took the job. Because how these monkeys do it, is wrong and useless." He mumbled quickly.

"So you don't care how they treat me after all, you just want it done correctly." John noted slowly sliding back into the water. He rose his tail out of the water as promised, granting access to his scales.

Sherlock shook his head in denial. "That is the thing they are doing wrong, your treatment. I've heard they hadn't even tried talking to you, assuming blindly that one who did not speak could hardly understand language. People are idiots. At least you're smarter than most of them. " He had a small surgical knife and cut off a tiny edge, putting it in a bag with great care. “ They had the chance to talk and study another sentient species, yet they foolishly wasted it, to state it bluntly, it pisses me off.” A marvel of nature, a distant cousin of humanity this merman. Treated like a test subject. If they had done it differently from the start, than maybe John himself would have joined the studies willingly. Perhaps he could have done his own in human behaviour and physiology which seemed to interest the other seeing that... “ You are a doctor.”

“Yes.” John nodded. “ And a bloody good one.”

The consultant was stunned, their kinds could learn so much from each other if they worked in tandem. John could probably explain Mer physiology in vivid details , there was no need for any of this cruelty. What kind if man would do this.

“ Moriarty. “ John whispered voice laced with fear. “ And he is no man but a monster, avoid him if you can. “

Sherlock look at John, he must have mumbled that last sentence aloud. “ Moriarty .” He repeated feeling the name roll of his tongue. The man who owned this dubious facility and had hired him , the scientist hadn't been very impressed by their first meeting. His ‘employer’ had appeared dim-witted, could this have been an act? “ Tell me about him?”

“ Stay away from him, that man doesn't have a speck of humanity in him, Bloody psychopath is what he is.” Said John as he made first with his hands in frustrated anger while he practically spit out his words And I’m fairly certain he knows Mer are intelligent.”

At that point Sherlock’s mobile beeped, flicking open he murmured. “ Speak of the devil.” Noted the consultant reading a rather flirtatious text from said man.” I need to go.” Standing up with haste Sherlock nearly forgot his earlier promise, he took the plastic bag and unwrapped the fish fillet placing it near the edge of the pool. “ I could not get fresh shellfish on such short notice, that would be for tomorrow. I hope this offer pleases you.”

John was pleased, immensely so, however he would stick by his plan even if the fish smelled divine to him. But Sherlock need not know this. “ Yeah thanks.”

The scientist nodded and hurried out the room, lab coat flaring out behind him. He needed to know for himself, the truth and nothing but the Truth. Even if what he found was an abomination with twisted reasoning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention/ planning of suicide.
> 
> And please heavens or seas, grant me a beta for the story is still un betad.
> 
> Based for an rp between me and the wonderful xBananaXhanahX.

 Standing in Dr Moriarty’s office , Sherlock studied the room. Grey walls where decorated with diplomas and several academic awards, boring accomplishments acknowledged by old men rusted in their habits. An intellectual display that held no valuable meaning at all, it was merely a way to impress other lesser men. It only irked Sherlock, because no true man of science would treat John in such a barbaric way. The whole office was a carefully constructed farce, build to mislead and trick people into thinking the owner was a kind-hearted man.

“Admiring my PHD in marine biology? “ Said the smaller man in the doorway with an Irish tilt to his voice.

Deciding to act along with whatever game his current employer was playing, Sherlock replied in a very neutral tone. “ Of sorts.”

Moriarty walked to his desk but instead of sitting down in the typical executive's chair, he leaned against the desk in a nonchalant manner.” Jim Moriarty, hi! And boy am I glad to spend some...time alone with you genius. Hard man to find employment for, but I can understand that most things appear dull with those sexy brains.”

It was unusual to receive a compliment, more sosuch a blatantly flirtatious one. Yet that greasy smile gave Sherlock the cold shivers as a myriad of new deductions popped into his mind. Dr Moriarty was indeed very very clever , however he was also an deceiving, cruel and obsessed individual. Even though Sherlock had to admit that some of their qualities overlapped, he was nothing like this dubious man. The consulting scientist didn’t want to be here for another second, yet there where things he desperately needed to know. “ Yes, most plebeians have the gall to try and employ me for matters that could be solved by twelve monkeys. But your offer was one I could not refuse. Tell me how did you come by such an unusual specimen? “ Sherlock bit down the disgust he felt as describing John as an it.

The madman let out an amused laugh. “ I'm not giving away my secrets just like that darling, you need to work for it.” Jim Moriarty winked. “Although I hope you might feel inclined to stay around and unravel more secrets here with me. We'd make a great team Sherlock.”

Sherlock was disgusted by the mere thought of working along a man such as DR Moriarty. John was right this man was a true monster in human shape, and there could be no denying that he knew of the Mer's true intelligence. This so called scholar was nothing more than a highly intelligent psychopath, bent on getting what he wanted no matter the cost. Curious and a tad frightened at the possible answer Sherlock said. “ At least tell me if this is the first or not, i could not find any data but the equipment suggests that this is not the first Mer you've dealt with.”

“Clever boy.” Moriarty said eagerly bending forward so that he was closing in on Sherlock’s personal space. “ This is the second live specimen I got my hands on, the other was as non compliant though. Although I have high hopes for you in succeeding where my team failed the last time. “

“Give me the data, I want to see and compare all my findings properly.” Sherlock demanded with an air of authority.

Sliding of the desk, Moriarty, slid a piece of paper in Sherlock pocket as he nearly purred his reply. “ I love a man who knows what he wants, feel obliged to look me up during your free hours. Unfortunately I’m off now.” The madman noted as his hand slid over The consultant’s hip as he whispered “ Do take care of yourself darling.”

As the spider slipped away, Sherlock, checked the note. It contained a separate login for a file named: the woman. While walking in the empty corridor towards his ‘living quarters', Sherlock rapidly downloaded the files on his drive. Normally he would have opened them on the spot, however he felt righteously paranoid. There where cameras in every nook and cranny,even the labs or lunchroom where fitted with them. One of the first things he did was trash the one in his lab, further searches concluded that his small cot had been bugged as well. Moriarty was one that watched every movement in his facility, something Sherlock hated with an intensity for his brother did the same. Yet it felt different, dirty somehow to be watched like this by such a depraved human being.

Closing the door with a slam behind him, Sherlock let out a deep sigh. The small room he was ‘ granted' was a mess. Papers where scattered across the floor and his only chair was occupied by a lump of clothing that could possibly be a set of threadbare pyjama’s, and a laptop shoved under the bed. The only thing that appeared to be well kept and taken care of with careful hands, was the violin case in the middle of the small bed. It wasn't much to look at, but the tiny space was his own microscopic sanctum away from all the others and their meaningless opinions.

Grabbing the laptop he flipped it open and switched it on, accessing his secured storage with the newly downloaded files of : The Woman. A neatly arranged pdf file opened, containing a careful study of the female Mer by a scientist Sherlock knew. The man had been the lead of a team in Baskerville, yet he had fallen out of grace after getting caught selling his research on hallucinating gas to unsavoury characters. Sherlock himself had pointed out the blatant mistakes the man had made in his awful cover-up, exposing a murder along the way. Thus getting the corrupt scientists promptly arrested, unfortunately the Dr Franland had disappeared in mysterious circumstances before arriving at court. Moriarty must have snatched the man by placing a few bribes and blackmails.

She was alluring in the first photo, dark hair and pale skin her tail midnight blue. There was even a confident seductive smile playing on her lips. The adjoining text was merely a sum of her characteristics, age, colouring, region the woman was found in. Apparently she herself had approached a yacht, however as the saying goes; curiosity killed the cat. The second ‘progress’ photo was takin in the same basin room where John was kept, albeit the water Her once womanly curved body was gaunt and had an unhealthy pale sheen, the blue gloss was gone making her scales appear a dull dark grey. Intelligent eyes showed desperation and acceptance of her faith much like John's, both of them similar in their refusal to speak or comply. Gradually the images and texts grew worse, enough to frighten even the hardest of men.

Knowing she was going to perish Dr Frankland had continued his studies of poisonous gasses and other elements under the command of Moriarty. After nearly scratching her own skin off, they had concluded that the original compound had the same effects on Mer as on humans. She was bound after that incident as to not further damage herself during the following experiments. Sherlock felt bile rise when he saw the next set of photographs, the thing on the table wasn't recognizable as the alluring Mer woman anymore. Horror washed over him as Sherlock realized what John’s faith would be once the consultant's job was finished.

Moriarty had invited him with glee, promising him an extended stay if he enjoyed his ‘research’. Yet Sherlock would refuse to be a part of this travesty disguised as a sea life research centre. Closing the laptop and discarding it on the ground he chose to forgo sleep again and head off to the his laboratory.

During this late hour there wasn't a soul around, giving the compound a rather haunted feeling. Even the canteen was deserted, Sherlock noted as he grabbed a double expresso from the coffee machine. The small laboratory he shared with Molly was still illuminated with bright artificial light. Sherlock had never switched anything off as he left, preferring to have everything ready to go instead of waiting for the equipment to start up. Patience had never been one of his virtues after all, and there wasn't much worth waiting for anyway. He sat down pulling out John’s dossier to compare it with the woman's. She had lasted several weeks before the testing of poisons started, frightfully close to the amount of time John had spent here in captivity. Moriarty had hired Sherlock for a month, and with the first three days almost over , the consultant, felt like John was living on borrowed time. If he thought about quitting, publishing the cruelties of the research lab or anything to discredit them. John’s life would be forfeited. After all a snake such as Moriarty left no trail for others to witness.

For the first time in his life, Sherlock regretted not accepting his brothers meddling. Mycroft had offered him a secure phone, a line only connecting the two them for the sake of emergencies. But his independence and pride had made him refuse his brother’s attempt to keep tabs on him. It was frustrating to know that a good relationship between siblings could have saved such an intelligent lifeform instantly. Instead he refused and sat at his desk bent over texts and photographs of a Mer's body decaying while she still drew breath. Worrying his lip Sherlock twisted his hands in the curly mess that was his hair, hell bent on finding a solution.

Morning came and so did more coffee , along with a package wrapped in Styrofoam that felt cold to the touch. With a small scalpel Sherlock removed the seal and lifted the lid, the smell of seawater greeted him along with an assortment of shellfish. Recognising most shells from when he was a small slightly chubby kid who loved the beach, Sherlock closed the lid again and picked it up. Before he entered the observation room and basin he locked the lab and double checked his re-route of the surveillance system. Satisfied that everything was as he wanted it, the dark haired man entered the next room to meet John.

John had slept.

No pain or muscle spasms in his fin occurred, no horrid nightmares of red seas and pain. He simply slept for a few undisturbed hours, that alone counted as a small miracle in his eyes. John heard the door slam and waited from within the waters, hoping against better judgement it was Sherlock. Soon he was greeted with the sight of the tall man dressed, in what he called a wetsuit, carrying a white contraption that vaguely smelled of salt. Sherlock himself looked...grim, dark circles under his eyes a solemn expression on his face. Letting himself float to the surface he caught Sherlock’s eye, and for a moment they just looked at each other in silence.

As if remembering where he was Sherlock straightened and tried to gain back his professional aura. However John had already seen ( and recognized) the now carefully covered up despair in the others pale eyes. “I’d say good morning but...”

Sitting down with the box next to him, Sherlock let his legs hang in the water. “ You where right.” Said Sherlock softly his voice cracking under the strain of emotion and a lack of sleep.” He is a monster.” He'd spent all night uncovering every vile thing done by Moriarty. One by one he uncovered various crimes, going from illegal dumping of toxic waste in the sea to macabre transactions made where man held no law.

John nodded sadly in understanding “ I wish I wasn’t.”

Trying to force a smile on his face, Sherlock removed the lid of Styrofoam box. “ I kept my promise though.”

Once the box opened the salt smell intensified, John could distinct the smell of fresh seawater and clams. Water was running in his mouth, and his empty stomach let out a painful hungry groan. “ Gods I can smell a few fresh oysters in there.”

“You can?” Asked the consultant with surprise in his voice, before bombarding John with questions.” Can you distinct the scents? Tell me what else is in there? Do you smell from which region they come?”

Slightly taken a back by the sudden change in topic, John mumbled. “Euhh.” It was a welcome distraction however, so he was keen on answering before his mind drifted back to darker thoughts. “ My sense of smell is good enough to tell you there's several oysters and mussels in there with a few live shrimps. ”John closed his eyes and let the scents was over him. “ A whole bunch of different scallops, clams and a few jackknife shells.” Those last ones where rather fragile, yet if sharpened with care they would be as sharp as a scalpel. A jagged oyster shell would have done the trick, but if he had to go he'd rather do it with a clean cut.

Uncharacteristic oblivious to John’s inner monolog, Sherlock lifted John’s meal from the box.” Can you tell me more about the olfactory senses of a Mer?” The scientist asked with real interest.

“Sure.” John said to his own suprise, Sherlock was honestly curious about his life. Not in an evil scientist kind of was, but just because he really wanted to know. It was refreshing. “ Compared to humans our sense of smell is much better, we are able to pick our foods correctly because of this. Smell and taste also play a part in picking a partner, it's not strange to lick and nip the one you’re with because of that. It also helps in locating where you are, each area has a distinct smell that you learn to recognize as you come and go.”

Sherlock was listening intently, imaging all the things he would be able to accomplish with such a good nose. “ It must come quite in handy I imagine. Do you use it in your job? What am I saying of course you do you're a doctor. You’re probably able to smell infections and such from a distance.”

“Yes.” John nodded enthralled by the way Sherlock talked, bright eyes shining with intellect as he deduced a trail of uses for such a well developed sense of smell. And it struck John, even though they where two different species, even though their situation was impossible. He was attracted to the tall dark haired consultant.

Faith really was playing cruel tricks with him.

John let him talk though, there where worse things to hear during your final moments in life. Even though he didn't find the different scents of ashes very useful, it was enough to hear Sherlock’s voice speaking with passion.After a while, and an interesting tale about murder and car chases, the consultant seemed to be temporarily out of words. 

John looked at him and took advantage of the silence. “Sherlock, will you answer my question?” 

With a cocky tilt of his head, Sherlock replied.” Yes, I just did.” 

Smiling sadly at the silly joke, John sighed deeply before he started.“Than be honest with me, no lies just truthful words even if they hurt. What will happen to me once you are out of tests. Once they or them, whoever it is keeping me here, has no more interest in me." John knew his outlook on "life" was bleak. Yet he longed to hear the truth from one of the humans himself. 

Sherlock frowned a little, reluctant to share this information. "I'm not sure if you want that answer." He mumbled but then sighed in resignation at the determined expression on John's face. "They're likely to test your resistance to disease or poisons deadly to man, Moriarty seems...keen to find out the limits of your species. And then...If you haven't died yet of pain...dissection, weighing your organs, drawing up sketches of how your body is structured, what it is made off... “ He trailed off slowly, Sherlock disapproved this entirely. In fact killing such an obviously intelligent being should be considered a heinous crime. But there was nothing he could do, his hands where tied. 

John reached out and touched the others forearm. His deep blue eyes a mixture of hurt and acceptance of his faith. " It's all right, i...i knew this already. But thank you for confirming it." The skin under his hands was warm and oddly comforting, John didn't want to pull away. "Can you do one thing for me?" 

Sherlock looked at the other’s cold hand and nodded. "What do you want me to do?" He asked slowly, it felt nice to be close to the muscular merman, the other had a peculiar calm effect on Sherlock. Even his heartbeat slowed a bit.

" Don't come back." John said kindly while he slowly removed his hand. "Please remember me as I was, not the thing I’ll become." 

Sherlock frowned a little and shook his head in abject horror. "I am the one to run tests on you, to feed you and to take care of you. I am responsible for anything that may happen. So no. I will come back. Somebody else...somebody worse would replace me.” 

John understood the others stubborn refusal, and tried to make his intentions clear. " And you did, you showed me my last kind face. You made certain I had nutrients, and most of all succeeded where all others before you failed in. You treated me like a person." His smile faded as he looked into Sherlocks pale observant eyes, before his eyes darted knowingly to the hard shells he could sharpen into a tool. " Please I beg of you, let me have my last meal." 

Sherlock's lips formed a tight angry line at that and he slowly narrowed his eyes. "Your last meal!” He hissed. “You want to kill yourself using the shellfish as a tool. And here I was thinking I would do a good deed to bring them to you." He spoke clearly. "Apparently not. Well, if you are going to kill yourself, you might as well drag me down with you. “ 

The Mer raised his eyebrows. " Your deed was good! I just don't wish to waste away as a captive, certainly not if my outlook is...." Explained John with resignation of his faith to be. " If i am to die i would rather decide my death. And as a doctor I decided it should be swift and painless." With a sad smile he looked at Sherlock and his ridiculous curls, the others eyes filled with outrage. " I wish we could have met under different circumstances, we could have become great friends I think." 

The consultant contemplated the John's words deeply and shook his head. "I'm not going to let you do that. I just need more time. Maybe I can get you out of here. At least let me try." He spoke without thinking. But meant it anyway.

"You know deep down inside that you can't keep that promise." John snorted almost disbelieving how stubborn the two of them where together. Such an odd pair they made. " Yet I recognise your persistence, and I...appreciate your efforts. For you, and only for you, I shall eat my shellfish and wait. I'll let you try, even if it will cause both of us pain later on." 

Sherlock nodded slowly. "I will keep my promise." He said immediately, not fully understanding where these protective impulses came from. "Just wait." Sherlock was just glad the merman wouldn't kill himself yet, giving him time to figure out the best course of action. “Thank you... " He said relieved and got up taking the box with him. "I'll be back tomorrow okay? I promise." After that, Sherlock left the room in a frantic hurry.

John sank back to the bottom, cracking open one of his fresh clams. It's taste was fresh and salty, he'd had better but right now it's taste was blissful. These past days had been strange to say the least. In one of the most unlikely places on earth, John, believed he'd made his first, albeit slightly odd, human friend. Already he was looking forward to the next day, which was dangerous in itself since it gave him hope where there really was none. Another shell was opened, and carefully put aside for later use. In this fashion John ate his entire meal, longing for more afterwards. He'd do with some cod, sprat or other fresh fish, perhaps even complimented with the right type of seaweed for minerals. In the unlikely case of Sherlock hatching a plan he'd need his full strength back. Thus after his meal and a short break, John decided he should be more active in order to keep his strength. In what space he had, the merman swam, making occasional graceful turns and bends. Waiting until he either grew tired, or enough hours had passed. 

Thinking of freedom and friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or kudo. They are snacks for the soul.


End file.
